Dark Days
by Erandir
Summary: The War of the Ring goes strikingly differently when the One Ring is never recovered from the Misty Mountains by Bilbo of the Shire. Now with the enemy forces on their doorstep Gondor turns to an old allegiance. Slash, MPreg, AU.
1. Prologue

Title: Dark Days

Category: LotR FPS

Pairings: Aragorn/Legolas, Eomer/Haldir, Eomer/Faramir

Rating: R

Warnings: Slash/Yaoi, Mpreg, Violence, Death, AU

Summary: The War of the Ring goes strikingly differently when the One Ring is never recovered from the Misty Mountains by Bilbo of the Shire. Now with the enemy forces practically on their doorstep Gondor turns to an old, nearly forgotten allegiance.

Beta: Empath

_Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and places are property of Tolkien enterprises. All original characters, settings, and the plot of this story are property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

Author's Notes: Like half of the things I write, this is inspired by a dream I had (I have strange dreams that often feature recognizable characters). It has, of course, been expanded upon to, hopefully, make more sense than my dream.

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**Prologue – Negotiation and Allies**

"My lord," Denethor wrung his hands nervously in his lap as he looked across the table at the imposing Elven king. "I am sure that you know this, however I feel I must point out that should Sauron's forces break through our lines their next target will be Mirkwood. Rohan poses them little threat, and Gondor cannot hold out forever if Mordor's forces continue to grow at this rate.

"But I believe that, if the people of Middle-earth work together, we may be able to overcome this evil. Alone, none of us stand a chance, but together we may emerge victorious."

"You do not sound terribly optimistic, Steward," Thranduil replied. "In fact, it seems you have already given up hope for your people."

Denethor shook his head solemnly. "Forgive me, my lord, but you have not seen what my people face every day. We are able to keep Sauron's forces at bay only because he has yet to initiate a serious offensive. He launches small assaults to pick off our scouting parties, knowing that he can create more Orcs faster than we can raise new soldiers.

"Even if Sauron does not launch a large scale attack, Gondor cannot hold out forever. And unless the One Ring is found and destroyed there will be no end to Mordor's resources."

The human had a point, Thranduil was forced to admit to himself. Isolated as they were, Mirkwood had yet to see the true power of Mordor's armies. As of yet, the woods had only been subject to small scouting missions. It was clear that Sauron was focusing his attentions first on the South. And Mirkwood did not have the army that Gondor had. If the men of the West struggled to hold the evil at bay, then Mirkwood would stand no chance when Sauron turned his attention on them.

"What do you suggest then, Steward?" the Elven king queried. "We have our own troubles here, I cannot send all of Mirkwood's forces to the South to fight your battles for you."

"Nay, I would not ask it, my lord," Denethor assured quickly. "At current, Gondor is able to hold Mordor's forces at bay. But Sauron grows stronger, although gradually. We know that our forces will not always be enough. We ask only that you would promise to send aid when King Arathorn requests it."

It was not an unreasonable request, but Thranduil was known for his mistrust of the other races. He had no great love for men, and would never have contemplated an alliance with them had the times not been so dire.

"And what would Gondor give in return for our warriors?" Thranduil asked, leaning forward to rest his arms upon the table that sat between himself and the Steward of Gondor. "What would Gondor offer as assurance that you will not abuse this agreement?"

Denethor continued to wring his hands below the table. Wise and cunning through he may have been, the Elven king intimidated him still. "King Arathorn is willing to sacrifice anything he is able to ensure the safety of his people," the Steward replied.

No immediate answer to this came from the Elven king. Denethor gulped slightly and brought his hands up above the table, laying his palms flat against the wood to keep from fidgeting anymore. "Just now our queen is pregnant with Arathorn's first child. I would be willing to offer an arranged marriage between this child and one of your sons."

Again there was no immediate answer, but this time Denethor remained silent to give the Elven king time to contemplate his offer. Thranduil knew that an arrangement like this would do more than assure mutual aid during hard times. It would be an alliance to last lifetimes.

Thranduil had only sons. Arranged marriages were not uncommon, but to offer a son to marry an unborn child was risky, especially when that unborn child was the first child of a king. There was no doubt that all the people of Gondor were praying for a boy child. But Thranduil's youngest son was still young enough. If the heir of Gondor was born male there was still time to prepare him for such a marriage.

"I accept the proposal," Thranduil replied at length, "But there is one stipulation I would add."

Denethor nodded willingly. It struck Thranduil that the Steward seemed desperate for this alliance to go through. Perhaps Gondor was in more dire straights than he had lead the Elven king to believe.

"I would ask that none of Mirkwood's warriors be called to Gondor until the marriage is finalized."

The man across the table blanched at the suggestion, but quickly schooled is expression back to indifference. "Of… Of course, my lord," Denethor assured. They could always hold the wedding when the heir was still a child. It was not unheard of. But Denethor knew that his king would be loath to put a child in such a position. Perhaps Thranduil was relying on a line of thinking like this to put off the call for troops as long as possible. If that was the Elven king's plan, then it would certainly work.

Thranduil smiled when he heard the Steward's assurance. "My youngest son, Legolas, would be best suited to fulfill this arrangement," he commented. "He is still nearly ten years from his majority. I trust Gondor will be able to hold out for that long."

"We shall do our best, my lord," Denethor replied.

* * *

It was only nine years since dark forces had begun stirring in Mordor once more. Three years since Orcs had begun their raids on the countryside beyond the Ephel Duath*. Still only small parties of Orcs ventured into Ithilien, which the Rangers there had been able to fend off. But the outpost of Minas Ithil* was struggling to hold back the constant attacks upon its position.

The threat from Mordor was, at the moment, more of an annoyance than a threat. But there was nothing to prevent the forces of Mordor from growing larger and stronger. It was widely suspected that the small raids were meant only to keep the peoples of the West occupied while Sauron gathered his strength for an all out attack.

It was because of his suspicion that Arathorn II, king of Gondor, sought out aid from the other peoples of the West. Gondor was the first line of defense against the enemy, and Arathorn intended not to allow the enemy to venture any further into Middle-earth.

While the Steward Denethor made alliance with Mirkwood in the North, others were sent to Edoras in Rohan and the Elven realm of Lothlorien seeking similar treaties. Arathorn firmly believed that if the people of the Middle-earth stood together they would be victorious.

To be continued.

* * *

End Notes:

Elven childhood lasts for approximately 50 years. During the negotiations for the alliance and marriage arrangement Legolas is 42. It is normal for Elves to marry between the ages of 50 and 100, putting Legolas at prime marrying age by the time his future spouse is old enough to marry.

I tend to have Elves speak in generally rounded numbers when referring to age or the passage of years because of their long lifespans. For example, an Elf who is 1297 years old would likely say that he is 1300, or nearing his 1300th year, rather than using the exact number.

*Glossary:

Ephel Duath: Mountains of Shadow, Western border of Mordor.

Minas Ithil: Sister city of Minas Tirith. Later known as Minas Morgul after its fall.


	2. Chapter 1

Title: Dark Days

Category: LotR FPS

Pairings: Aragorn/Legolas, Eomer/Haldir, Eomer/Faramir

Rating: R

Warnings: Slash/Yaoi, Mpreg, Violence, Death, AU

Summary: The War of the Ring goes strikingly differently when the One Ring is never recovered from the Misty Mountains by Bilbo of the Shire. Now with the enemy forces practically on their doorstep Gondor turns to an old, nearly forgotten allegiance.

Beta: Empath

_Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and places are property of Tolkien enterprises. All original characters, settings, and the plot of this story are property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

Author's Notes: Because someone asked about the timeline: I have shifted around the birth dates of certain characters to suit the purposes of this story, but for the most part everything else will remain the same. To me, it does not feel as though I have changed much of the timeline, but for others it might be best to assume a complete alteration simply because the events are so different.

Italics indicate Elvish speech.

* * *

**Chapter One – Old Contracts and New Acquaintances**

"They have taken Minas Ithil," the ranger reported. "We will lose Ithilien by the end of the month."

King Arathorn pinched the bridge of his nose as he took in this information. In his heart he had known that this day would come, even if his brain had tried to deny it. "Evacuate Osgiliath," he ordered. "If they overtake Ithilien the East bank will be lost to us. Destroy the bridges; it will not stop them, but it may at least slow them down."

The ranger bowed and quickly left the throne room to carry out his king's orders. After his departure silence fell over the hall. It was grave news that they had just received. For more than twenty years Minas Ithil had been the outpost from which they had held back the armies of Mordor. Now it was gone and, with it, their first line of defense.

"Boromir," the king said without looking up.

"My lord?" the young man replied. Boromir had taken up the post of Steward following his father's death a year ago; the youngest appointed Steward in Gondor's history, at only twenty-two years of age.

"Our numbers have reached their limit," Arathorn stated. "Sauron can breed orcs faster than we can raise soldiers, even when every man born is trained as one."

Boromir did not reply. He knew well their country's situation. He had grown up during this war and had been trained for battle just like every other boy his age.

"I cannot ask more reinforcements from Rohan," Arathorn continued. "They must protect their own borders as well, and have already been more than generous with their aid. As have the Elves. But I fear we will not be able to hold them back much longer."

Boromir could tell that his king was frightened, and that frightened him because it was such a rare occurrence. "What of Mirkwood?" he asked.

Mirkwood. Arathorn raised his head as though he had had an epiphany. How could he have forgotten about Mirkwood after all the trouble they had gone to secure that alliance? But there was the stipulation in their treaty. "Aragorn will not be happy," the king said regretfully.

"I do not see that we have any other choice, my lord," Boromir replied. He did not like it any more than Arathorn. The crown prince was his best friend and he would have much preferred to see him marry for love.

"Aye, we do not," Arathorn had to agree. "Send a message to Mirkwood of our desire to take action on our treaty. I will tell Aragorn of our decision."

* * *

"I refuse!"

"Aragorn," the king attempted to calm his son, but did not appear to be doing a good job. It was times like this that Arathorn most missed his wife. She had always been able to calm Aragorn with little effort, no matter how riled up the man had been as a child.

"No!" Aragorn insisted furiously. "I refuse to be married to a complete stranger. I have told you this a thousand times."

"Aragorn, Ithilien will be overrun within the month. We have lost the East bank. How long do you think we can continue to hold of Sauron's forces with our current numbers?" Arathorn asked sternly. "I do not like the situation any more than you, but we have already used up every other option. Mirkwood is our last hope."

The prince fell silent. He understood the gravity of the situation, but could not see why he had to be married. "What does my being married have to do with the war?" Aragorn asked bitterly. "Why was it even included?"

"It was King Thranduil's insistence," Arathorn explained, as he had many times in the past. He could not blame his son for being upset, but there was nothing to be done about it now. "It is the way they do things there, I suppose. But this marriage will also help to secure an alliance that will last beyond the war. You know that the joining of houses is the best way to ensure good relations between nations in the future."

It was true. And while it had been many generations since there had been an arranged marriage amongst the nobility of Gondor, it was not unheard of. Many now considered it a backward practice. Perhaps Mirkwood was a backward nation.

Aragorn sighed as he turned away from his father. "Fine, I will go along with it. If it has already been decided there is nothing I can do."

The king regretted that this arrangement had been made. He had hoped never to call upon Mirkwood's aid, and so forget the marriage agreement. But now that they were in need he realized that the treaty had been a necessity, and Aragorn's sacrifice would hopefully be worth while.

"I am sorry it came to this, Aragorn," the king said earnestly.

There came no reply from the prince.

* * *

"_I hate this_."

"_Aye, as do I, little brother_."

In Mirkwood, similar regrets passed between two of its princes. When the request from Gondor had arrived preparations for departure from the woodland kingdom began immediately. But few, if any, were happy about it.

"_Why did father insist on this arrangement for the treaty with Gondor?_" the younger asked.

"_You know that they are the most powerful nation in Middle-earth_," the elder replied. "_Its strength wanes now because of the constant attacks on its borders, but when the war is over it will no doubt return to its former strength. When they do, it will be advantageous to hold an alliance with them. Father took advantage of their current weakness to secure one_."

The younger prince sighed and rested his head on his hands as he stared out the window of his bedchambers. He knew full well that it might be the last time he saw this view for a long time. "_I do not want to be married to a stranger. Let alone a Human_," he scoffed.

"_Neither do I want to see you married to one_," the elder agreed. "_But this is for the good of the country, Legolas. And he is mortal. After he dies you will be free to return here and live with us again._"

That was a somewhat comforting, if selfish, thought. Legolas did not know much of Humans except the few dealings his people had with the men of Esgaroth,* who were always asking aid for their dragon-ravaged city. He did not like those men very much, and did not expect to like the Gondorians any more.

* * *

"They are here," Boromir announced.

A month had passed since the decision to call for Mirkwood's aid had been made. Since then, those involved had been waiting for the Elves' arrival. Now their wait was over.

Aragorn sighed as he turned to his lifelong friend with a wry smile. "I suppose we should go to meet my betrothed, then."

Boromir could only nod and follow his friend toward the main hall. He knew Aragorn was absolutely miserable this day, and he felt for the prince. But he was also proud of Aragorn's ability to put aside his personal happiness for the good of his country; and in this case, the rest of Middle-earth.

The pair reached the main hall together. Aragorn paused just outside to steel himself and shove aside his anger and sadness about the whole situation. Then he pushed open the door and strode in.

When the door opened everyone in the hall turned toward it. Aragorn could already feel the tension in the room as he stepped in. The prince turned his gaze toward the front of the hall where his father stood with the party of Elves. Which one of them was his betrothed? There was nothing about any of them that made one stand out from the next.

"Aragorn!" Arathorn's voice broke the stiff silence that had fallen over the group since the young man's entrance. "Do not stand there gawking, come!"

Aragorn did as he was bid, crossing the marble floor in quick strides until he stood before his father.

One of the Elves stepped out from the group; tall, blond and clad in earth tones like all of them. "This is crown prince Ithilion, King Thranduil's eldest son," Arathorn introduced. Aragorn could only nod. This was not the one.

"My father, regretfully, needed to remain behind to organize our soldiers," the Elven prince explained. "I came in his stead."

Aragorn bowed slightly to the Elven prince, but really he was not interested. He did not care why Thranduil was not here. As much as he did not want to be married, he was extremely nervous and curious to meet his betrothed. All his life he had known that he was engaged to an Elven prince and he had come to terms with the fact that he would marry a male, as strange as that was. Now that person was standing before him, but he could not recognize who it was. Aragorn could not contain his curiosity to know.

As the Gondorian prince's eyes scanned over the party of Elves he heard his father chuckle. "I think my son is more eager to meet his betrothed."

"Of course," Ithilion agreed. "Legolas?"

The movement came from the back of the group. An Elf who had been lingering behind the others stepped forward slowly. By appearance alone he was not too different from the rest, but the way he held himself said otherwise. Like a shy child the Elf stepped forward with his hands clasped in front of himself and his eyes to the floor. He stopped beside his brother and slowly raised his eyes to meet Aragorn's. "Mae govannen,"* he spoke softly.

He was gorgeous. That was the first thought that crossed Aragorn's mind. Of course, all Elves were beautiful, but there was something more about this one. Something that made the young man forget himself for a moment. "Welcome," Aragorn replied only out of reflex.

"Aragorn, perhaps you should show Prince Legolas to his quarters?" Arathorn suggested with a smile. At least there appeared to be a physical attraction between the pair.

* * *

A physical attraction there was, but that was all. As Aragorn lead his betrothed toward his rooms there were no words spoken. Legolas seemed too shy and Aragorn did not know what to say. What does one say to a complete stranger to whom they will be married in a few days?

When they reached the rooms Aragorn stopped and opened the door. "These are guest quarters," the man explained. "Your things will be moved after… After the wedding."

"Thank you," Legolas replied, stepping into the room and looking around. Even for a guest room it was clear that Legolas had been given one of the best. Where they stood now was only a sitting room, and though the door on the other side of the room was closed, that was obviously where the bedroom was located.

"If you need anything you can ask the servants," Aragorn continued. When it came to formal conversation he felt more comfortable. "Will you be joining us for evening meal?"

Legolas hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Yes, I think I will."

"Then I will have someone come to escort you to the dining hall when it is time," Aragorn replied. "But now I am sure you are tired from traveling. I will leave you to rest and settle in."

To be continued.

---------------

*Glossary:

Esgaroth: Lake-Town. Without Bilbo the Dwarves had a little more difficulty in defeating Smaug. Esgaroth and Erebor are only just finished recovering from the dragon's attacks.

Mae govannen: Sindarin Elvish – lit. "well met", commonly "greetings" or "welcome".


	3. Chapter 2

Title: Dark Days

Category: LotR FPS

Pairings: Aragorn/Legolas, Eomer/Haldir, Eomer/Faramir

Rating: R

Warnings: Slash/Yaoi, Mpreg, Violence, Death, AU

Summary: The War of the Ring goes strikingly differently when the One Ring is never recovered from the Misty Mountains by Bilbo of the Shire. Now with the enemy forces practically on their doorstep Gondor turns to an old, nearly forgotten allegiance.

Beta: Empath

_Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and places are property of Tolkien enterprises. All original characters, settings, and the plot of this story are property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

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**Chapter Two – **

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Legolas had been living in Minas Tirith for one whole week now and he did not like it any more than he had a week ago. The city was a magnificent sight; amazing craftsmanship, he would give it that. But the cold stone walls felt oppressive; confining. For a Wood Elf the stone city was almost like a prison.

In his rooms Legolas always had ever window open to let the sunlight and fresh air in. He could not stand to spend more than a few hours anywhere else indoors, and ended up frittering away most of his days in the palace gardens. Outside he could pretend, if only for a moment, that he was back in the forests of his home and that he wasn't about to be married to someone who was still a complete stranger.

One week and he did not know Aragorn any better than he had the day they had met. Legolas could count the number of times they had spoken on one hand. It seemed that Aragorn had no desire to get to know him better, but it would have been a lie to say that Legolas did not feel the same. In any other situation Legolas felt certain he would never have had anything to do with the Gondorian prince. But they were getting married, and because of that Legolas felt that he should get to know the man.

These conflicted, depressing thoughts had been at the forefront of Legolas' mind for days, and he was not certain they would ever go away. But just then a movement elsewhere in the garden caught the Elven prince's attention and distracted him from those thoughts.

When Legolas turned his eyes toward the disturbance he was startled to see not a man, but another Elf. The Elf was obviously a soldier; no other would choose to be in the city at a time like this. From this and his garb Legolas supposed that he was from Lothlorien, but his appearance gave away little else.

"_You must be the prince that I have heard about_," the Elf said.

"_Who are you_?" Legolas asked, trying his best to be the stoic royal his father had always wanted him to be. He had never been very good at it, though.

"_Forgive me_," the other apologized, and bowed his head respectfully to the prince. "_I am Haldir. I command the Elven troops from Lorien_."

"_Well met_," Legolas replied. "_I am Legolas Thranduilion of Mirkwood_."

Haldir smiled at the young prince. "_Then you are the one I was told about. I hear you are to be married in a few days_."

It was as though a shadow passed over Legolas' face when he heard that. He hated to be reminded of it. "_Yes, that is true_," the prince answered simply.

Haldir's smile faded. "_I am sorry, I did not mean to upset you. I take it you do not wish to be married?_"

"_The marriage was arranged when I was still a child. It does not matter what I wish_," Legolas told him.

"_May I join you_?" the Lorien Elf asked, gesturing to the grass where Legolas sat.

"_Oh, of course. I am sorry, please sit_," Legolas replied hastily. How rude of him not to offer the commander a seat. His manners were sorely lacking. Perhaps it was a result of living in this place.

Haldir strode forward and took a seat on the grass beside the Elven prince. It was pleasant that day and the calm within the garden belied the chaos going on in the world. For the Elven commander it was a nice change from the front lines. "_You had not met a man before coming here, had you_?" Haldir had to ask. It may have been rude, but his curiosity got the better of him.

"_Nay, I admit I had not_," Legolas confirmed.

As expected. Mirkwood was rather isolated even from the other Elven realms; it would be no surprise if the young prince had never even been outside the borders before. This whole arrangement was a bit of a shock. King Thranduil usually kept to himself as much as possible. "_I should tell you then, that they are not all as terrible as they might seem at first impression_," the commander commented. "_At least give your betrothed a chance, he had no more choice in this matter than you_."

Legolas nodded slowly but said nothing right away. He still felt bitter enough to hate the human prince, but he would keep Haldir's advice in mind.

----

Another week and the two princes were married. There was very little ceremony, and no official announcement made. Given the circumstances, everyone felt paranoid. If word of the alliance with Mirkwood should reach the enemy, then they might loose any advantage they had gained by it. Everything was kept under wraps.

To Legolas, it seemed fitting. Why celebrate? For him, there was nothing to celebrate. His life was now tied to Prince Aragorn's. For better or for worse he would stay by the man's side; that he had promised in the ceremony. Whether he liked it or not he would stay by the man's side; Legolas did not break promises.

After the ceremony was the first time Legolas was formally introduced to the members of the court aside from Arathorn and Aragorn. There was the Steward, Boromir, Legolas reviewed in his mind as he looked over the crowd, and his younger brother Faramir, who was practically still a child, and for all that they called him captain there was nervousness in the young man's eyes. Legolas knew how he felt. Legolas was relieved to see Haldir in attendance, along with a small company of Lorien and Mirkwood Elves. Then there were the Rohirrim and their captain, Eomer, whom Legolas found even more curious and off putting than the Gondorians.

So this was to be his life for the next hundred years? A loveless marriage to the prince of a people so different from his own that there could hardly be any comparison, surrounded by strangers day and night.

Speaking of night; Legolas cast a nervous glance over at his new husband. He knew what was going to happen, but that did not make it any easier. The small, somewhat lifeless party was becoming smaller and more lifeless. His things had already been moved to the suite next door to the prince's chambers. There was no escaping it.

Eventually the inevitable time came when the newlywed couple took their leave. Legolas allowed his husband to lead him from the room and down the hall. He had never been to Aragorn's rooms before, but any curiosity the Elf might have had was overshadowed by his nerves and dread.

Aragorn shut the door after they had entered. Legolas stepped a few paces into the room and took a moment to look around. The rooms were partly what he had come to expect from a Human prince. Comfortable furniture and decorations that were probably nicer than what anyone outside the palace owned. In the corner were propped a sword, bow and quiver beside a chest that likely held other related items. There was surprisingly little that told anything about Aragorn's personality.

Behind him the Gondorian prince cleared his throat and Legolas turned around to face him. The man appeared as awkward as Legolas felt and, oddly enough, that comforted him a fraction.

"Uhm…" Aragorn stammered a bit, looking up at Legolas, then down at his shoes, then back up at Legolas, "Because you are male… We do not actually… have to… Because you cannot have children…. Right?"

So Aragorn did not want to do this, either. If only the man was correct in his assumptions. "I can bear children," Legolas informed. "It is why I was chosen to marry you."

A host of expressions crossed Aragorn's face. Surprise, confusion, horror. "You can? But…" The confusion seemed to have won out.

Legolas nodded solemnly. "It… is a complicated process, and I was the only one young enough," he explained. He should have expected that the man would not know. Of course they did not have anything like that here. "It… I…" the Elven prince stuttered a bit, gracelessly, "Because of the treatment, I should now be able to bear children for you," he managed to get out eventually. "At least… That is what the healers tell me."

Aragorn opened and closed his mouth a few times without producing any noise. "Oh," was the best he could manage. "Then we must…"

"Yes," Legolas confirmed, feeling himself blush from embarrassment and shame just talking about it.

Aragorn did not know what to do. He had been banking on the fact that Legolas was a male, and so no one would know if they consummated the marriage or not, because it was not like the prince could have children anyway. Such was no longer the case.

"Should we… go to the bedroom?" Legolas forced himself to ask. They might as well get this over with as quickly as possible.

This time Aragorn blushed a bit. It looked strange and out of place on the young man's rugged face. Sometimes Legolas forgot that the man was just as young as he was. Aragorn nodded and offered his hand to Legolas, which the Elf took and allowed his new husband to lead him into the bedroom. His heart was pounding furiously from nervousness and some anticipation. There was a physical attraction between the newly wedded pair, something that would help them in the coming moments.

The bedroom door Aragorn also closed, and then turned to face his husband. Neither knew quite how to continue. "May I…?" Aragorn asked nervously, leaning forward slightly toward his husband.

Legolas looked up at him for a moment, unsure what the man was asking. "I am your husband," he replied eventually.

"I know, but… I know it is not by your choice," Aragorn said.

Something about the man's concern for his feelings touched Legolas. Perhaps this marriage, even if it was without love, would not be so terrible. "Maybe not, but it is my duty. To my people… And to you… You may do what you wish."

So Aragorn kissed him. It was soft, hesitant, awkward, unskilled, and it ended quickly. Then they moved toward the bed. Legolas sat down on the edge of the mattress and began undressing. First his hair came loose from the braids that held it back. Then his tunic was unbuttoned and slipped from his shoulders. Aragorn watched until he became too shy and turned away to undress himself.

When the man turned back, his Elven husband was stripped to his pants and sitting shyly on the side of the bed. Aragorn gulped and went to sit beside him. Legolas raised his head and turned to face his husband. They kissed again, which, oddly enough, helped Legolas to relax somewhat. His heart may not have felt anything for his husband, but his body reacted to the man's touches. That, coupled with the resolution that he would fulfill this duty regardless of what his heart said, was what helped Legolas get through the motions that night.

Their joining was somewhat awkward and mostly mechanical. It was a good thing neither was expecting anything from the experience, because there was very little worth mentioning. When finished, however, Aragorn felt more awkward than before. He left the bed to clean up and change into nightclothes, and so he would not have to look at Legolas. The Elf left the bed as well, and after pulling on his pants and gathering his other clothing, he left the room, thankful for the first time that his chambers and Aragorn's were connected. Back in his own room, Legolas washed, changed his clothes, and curled up in his own bed to try and dream of anything that had nothing to do with his husband.

TBC.


	4. Chapter 3

Title: Dark Days

Category: LotR FPS

Pairings: Aragorn/Legolas, Eomer/Haldir, Eomer/Faramir

Rating: R

Warnings: Slash/Yaoi, Mpreg, Violence, Death, AU

Summary: The War of the Ring goes strikingly differently when the One Ring is never recovered from the Misty Mountains by Bilbo of the Shire. Now with the enemy forces practically on their doorstep Gondor turns to an old, nearly forgotten allegiance.

Beta: Empath

_Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and places are property of Tolkien enterprises. All original characters, settings, and the plot of this story are property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

_Author's Notes: If I had not made it clear enough, the main part of this story takes place 20 years after the prologue. _

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**Chapter Three – Terror and Flight**

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The next morning, when Legolas awoke, there was a large commotion in the hall and in the courtyard outside the Elven prince's window. Legolas could hear voices coming through the door from the sitting room his bedroom shared with Aragorn's. The voices were heated, and so, though the Elf would have preferred to stay abed for a while longer, he was drawn out by his curiosity.

His body was sore, but Legolas ignored it as he dressed and smoothed out his mussed hair. It did not take long for him to make himself presentable, but still the commotion had migrated out of the sitting room by then. There was no one in the sitting room when Legolas emerged from his bedroom, so he continued onward into the hallway.

Legolas looked out into the hall in time to see his husband disappear around the corner with the Steward. The Elf was curious about what was going on, but uncertain if he should follow. It was probably improper of him to do so. They were probably only going to work. Come to think of it, Legolas had no idea what his husband did during the day. But hastily dressed and barely presentable as he was, this was probably not the best time to find out. He would just have to ask Aragorn the next time he saw him.

The Elven prince returned to his bedroom and decided that, with the way his body ached, a bath was in order.

---

It was just as Legolas was preparing for breakfast that the commotion returned to the hallway and quickly to the sitting room. Before he even had a chance to look for himself there was an urgent knocking at the prince's door. Legolas hurried to open it.

Aragorn was standing there, "Come with me," he ordered, and he quickly took Legolas by the arm.

"Where?" Legolas was startled. "Why? What is going on?"

"We are evacuating the city," Aragorn explained as he pulled his husband toward the hallway.

"What?" Legolas exclaimed. "Why? What happened?" The day before everything had been fine.

"The Orcs crossed the river in the night and took Osgiliath. Minas Tirith is under attack."

"Under attack? And we are not going to try and defend the city?" Legolas asked.

"We are. You are not," Aragorn corrected as they emerged into the hallway. He released the Elf's arm then and nodded toward the small knot of people who were gathered there: Boromir, Faramir and Haldir. "You will go with Faramir and the rest of the people out through the mountains and to Rohan."

Legolas could hardly believe what he was hearing. When he had gone to sleep the night before they had been safe in this city. Now they were under attack and Aragorn was telling him to run away? The day before, Legolas had sworn to stay by his husband's side through thick and thin; he would not break that promise easily. "I will not go," the Elven prince insisted.

There was a momentary stunned silence after this declaration. "You must go," Aragorn argued. "It is not safe here."

"As long as you remain, so will I," Legolas persisted. "I promised that yesterday."

Did Legolas really take their wedding vows so seriously? Aragorn could not believe it, and he did not want to argue about this right now. "We do not have time for this," he said sternly. "You and Faramir will go with the rest through the mountains. I will hear no arguments." He did not give Legolas a chance to reply, but swept past him and headed off down the hall.

Boromir hurried after the Gondorian prince, but Haldir lingered a moment. "You should do as he says, it is far too dangerous here for you to remain," the Galadhrim said before he followed the other two back down the hall, leaving only Legolas and Faramir standing in the hall.

Legolas did not know why he was so angry. He had never liked fighting, and his training had been stopped not long after his marriage had been arranged. The Elf knew he did not belong in battle, or anywhere near it. But to be left behind with the women and children, it was just insulting. "Come, Faramir," Legolas said, grasping the young man's wrist. "I want to see what is happening for myself."

----

Faramir protested, but Legolas noticed that he did not protest overmuch. Perhaps the young captain was of similar mind. Put in a military position only to be sent off when things got dangerous. He allowed Legolas to pull him out of the palace and into the courtyard, where they stopped to look out over the city. What Legolas saw horrified him.

All of Pelennor, from the gates of Minas Tirith to the river Anduin, was overrun. The plains swarmed with the dark masses of Sauron's army, surging like an ocean wave toward the city walls.

Legolas released Faramir's arm and rushed up to the edge of the courtyard. Cerulean eyes widened in alarm and mounting panic. Palms pressed to the cool stone, Legolas leaned out to get a better view of the city. The main gate was broken, Orcs flooding through into the first level of the city. "Faramir," he breathed, "How are the people leaving?"

"There is a passage that leads into the mountains," Faramir replied, "Just a few levels down from here. From there the path leads to Rohan, where they will be able to take refuge. Most will have been gone by now, we will be among the last."

"Aragorn and the others… They are coming as well, correct?" Legolas asked, unable to take his eyes off of the chaos below. He could see flashes of silver, the armor of the Gondorian soldiers, among the black hoards of Orcs; but there were so few, so few left to defend the city.

"I am certain that they will," Faramir replied, and Legolas was just barely able to hear the tremor in his voice. "When they are able."

"But the city is over run!" Legolas exclaimed, "If they do not retreat now then…" but the Elf never finished that thought. As he turned his gaze back to Faramir the look on the young man's face stopped him. Faramir was terrified, and he knew full well what dangers the soldiers faced; his brother was down there. Legolas was terrified, too. But though he might not have liked the Men of this city, he knew that none of them deserved to die this day. He wanted to see them all safe. "Show me where the passage to the mountains is, we can wait there as long as possible."

----

And wait they did. Nigh an hour after the last of the citizens had left Legolas could hear soldiers approaching. He grasped Faramir's arm to alert the man, certain he had not yet heard them, and waited with bated breath to see who would appear at the mouth of the passage.

It was Boromir who appeared first, panting and spattered with Orc blood. He stopped short when he saw the other two, but it took him only a moment to respond. "What on Earth are you still doing here?" he exclaimed, and rushed forward toward his brother. "You were told to leave with the rest. You could have gotten yourselves killed."

Neither Legolas nor Faramir said anything, silenced by the Steward's harsh words like scolded children. Soon more appeared in the mouth of the tunnel, soldiers from different nations and Aragorn, Eomer and Haldir. Haldir was shouting that they needed to keep moving, and paused only a moment to stare in shock at the two who were supposed to have been long gone by now. Without another word he took Legolas by the arm and began pulling him along; Boromir did likewise with Faramir.

Legolas realized his mistake now. He understood why he and Faramir had been told to go with the women and children. As they ran Legolas' eyes fell to the others. Soldiers covered in blood, many of them wounded. There could not have been more than thirty in total. Was this all that was left of the forces of the West? How had they been so soundly defeated so quickly?

The Elf's mind was reeling, but somehow through the chaos and fear, he heard a voice, Faramir's, asking "Where is the king?" And the reply of "He is dead," made Legolas' blood run cold.

In the dark of the passage, guided by Haldir's firm grip on his wrist, Legolas' eyes sought out his husband. Aragorn was running with the others, but his eyes were cast to the floor. The man's face was a mesh of emotions: determination, grief, fear. His gaze flickered up for a moment and his eyes locked with Legolas' for a second before the Elf turned away.

From the dark tunnel they emerged quite suddenly out into the bright sunlight on the mountainside. Squinting in the sudden light, the escapees stopped to find their bearings. This was a passage none had taken since its creation, which left the refugees standing in a forest clearing on the Northern side of the White Mountains.

"We must keep moving," Boromir was saying urgently. "We must find somewhere safe to make camp and tend to the wounded. We cannot linger here."

And they were off again, with a few of the soldiers at the rear covering as many signs of their passage as possible in their haste.

---

To Be Continued


	5. Chapter 4

Title: Dark Days

Category: LotR FPS

Pairings: Aragorn/Legolas, Eomer/Haldir, Eomer/Faramir

Rating: R

Warnings: Slash/Yaoi, Mpreg, Violence, Death, AU

Summary: The War of the Ring goes strikingly differently when the One Ring is never recovered from the Misty Mountains by Bilbo of the Shire. Now with the enemy forces practically on their doorstep Gondor turns to an old, nearly forgotten allegiance.

Beta: Empath

_Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and places are property of Tolkien enterprises. All original characters, settings, and the plot of this story are property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

--------  
**Chapter Four – Retreat and Revelations**

--------

The last of the refugees from Minas Tirith, slowed by their wounded and significantly separated from the main group, ventured far from the beaten path in search of somewhere safe to hide out for a while. They had managed to find shelter in a hollow in the mountainside that could have been called a cave, though it was a poor excuse for one.

The wounded were being treated as well as they could, given what little there was to work with. Bandages were made from clothing scraps, but injuries went largely unmedicated due to the lack of proper supplies. Everyone who was able was helping in some way; uninjured soldiers stood guard or helped the wounded. A scout had gone off to see if they were followed. Everyone had a task.

Nearly everyone, that is.

Legolas had offered his aid, asked where he could be of use, but he had been turned away by everyone. There were already enough hands tending wounded, and no one trusted him to stand guard. He could not blame them for the latter. But the Elven prince felt out of place enough as it was; to be further alienated only felt worse. He sat as close to the mouth of the cave as he felt was safe, against the rock wall with his knees pulled up to his chest. He did not want to get in the way.

But though he stayed out of the way as best he could, the prince could not stay completely unnoticed. Haldir approached his disheartened kinsman slowly after seeing that the very few remaining Elven warriors were properly cared for. "Legolas," he said, drawing the prince's blue eyes up from the ground. "I imagine it will be rather cold in these mountains come nightfall," the Elven commander said. "Perhaps you could assist me in gathering some firewood to stave off the chill?"

Those blue eyes lit up instantly merely at the offer of something to do, no matter how pointless the task. And pointless it truly was, because to risk a fire that night would be far too dangerous. Haldir offered his hand to the younger Elf and helped Legolas to his feet. He did not like to see the prince so depressed, and there were many things he wished to speak to him about. The pair of Elves left the small sheltered cavern and made their way out into the surrounding trees. It was not safe to wander in the woods, but Haldir knew that so long as they stayed within the perimeter of scouts they would not be in too much danger.

Legolas was silent as he bent to collect manageable sized pieces of deadwood from the forest floor. While occupied with the task he hid his roiling emotions well. Haldir could not tell so easily what was going through the younger Elf's head. That was fine, though. What Haldir wanted to know could not be gleaned through observation anyway.

"_Legolas_," the commander began when he was certain they would not be overheard by any other. "_Why did you and Faramir remain in the city?"_

The prince stopped almost immediately, still half stooped as he picked up a fallen branch. He froze for a moment, and then slowly completed the interrupted motion. "_I know it was foolish_," murmured Legolas shamefully. "_And perhaps it was selfish as well. But I wanted to see for myself what was happening. And I wanted to be certain everyone was all right_."

"_It was very foolish,"_ Haldir confirmed, "_and very dangerous. Had we not chosen to retreat, if we had been killed, then the Orcs would have found you waiting there for us_."

"_I know_," Legolas replied. He had not thought of that scenario at the time, but the realization had hit him during their flight. "_I put both my own life and Faramir's in danger, and for that I am sorry_."

Legolas had good intentions, Haldir could tell. The Mirkwood prince probably would not hurt a fly. Might not be able to, for that matter, but that did not make what he had done any less stupid. "_You need to start thinking more about the consequences of your actions_," Haldir scolded, "_You are not just a child of Mirkwood anymore. You are a prince of Gondor, and with that comes responsibilities to its people. You were told to go with the refugees to Rohan. After the king and steward, you and Faramir are the highest ranking in the city. Without you the people have no recognizable leader._"

Haldir watched as Legolas' eyes widened in horror as he realized what he had done. "_I… I did not think…_" the young Elf began brokenly.

"_That is exactly my point, Legolas,_" Haldir replied, "_You did not think of the consequences. But there is nothing to be done about it now, only be more aware in the future._"

---

Legolas' mood did not improve over the days that the refugees spent in their exposed shelter; nor did his relationship with anyone other than Haldir, though it was not for lack of trying. As though he wanted to make up for his past ill decisions, Legolas did everything he could to be of use. He gave his assistance wherever it was welcomed, even tasks in which he was not skilled. The soldiers seemed to accept his presence, even if they did not seek out his friendship.

There was one, however, who barely spared the young Elf a second glance. Aragorn had had a kingship thrust upon him that he had not expected to receive for many long years, and he was ill prepared to lead his people in times such as these. The young man relied heavily on Boromir's advice, though the steward had only a few years more experience than he. But Aragorn was a natural leader, and when his people looked to him for guidance he was more than willing to give it even if he was unsure of himself at times.

"There has been no sign of Orcs from the tunnel yet," Haldir reported. He and the few Elves with them had been put in charge of scouting to make sure they were always a step ahead of their pursuers. "But we cannot expect that to last for long. I expect they are merely taking their time pillaging the city and they will come after us eventually."

"I would stay here as long as we may," Aragorn replied thoughtfully. "Many are still too badly wounded to travel and I would not want to risk it."

"Be that as it may," Eomer argued, "When the Orcs do find the passage and come after us we will have to move quickly, which may be worse for those injured."

Second to Haldir, the Rohirric marshal had the most battle and command experience; and he had made a good point. To force the wounded to flee quickly would be worse for them than to be able to travel at a steady pace. "I understand your reluctance to leave this place, my lord," Boromir spoke up, addressing Aragorn. "Here we are aware of the resources and we are able to keep a good watch for the Orcs, but this shelter is not ideal, and it is still too close to the city. We should venture further into the mountains and seek out a better location."

"And if the Orcs come upon us while we are searching?" Aragorn asked, frowning. "While we have no way to defend ourselves and are burdened by carrying the wounded? We cannot keep watch as well as we have while on the move and there is no telling how long it will take to find a suitable shelter. This place may not be ideal but it is better than nothing.

"The Orcs will not send more than a scouting party through the passage at first," the young king continued, "Even with our small numbers we would be able to defeat them, and that would give us enough time to flee this place before the enemy realizes something has gone amiss. A few more days may be all that some of these men need to be back on their feet, but if they are forced to travel in their condition it will do them no good."

There was silence for a moment after the man spoke as the others contemplated his words. "Lord Aragorn is correct," Haldir spoke first in the heavy silence. "This land is uncharted to the enemy, they would not risk too large a group when there may be uncounted dangers awaiting them. A scouting party would be easy to pick off, and it could be hours or days before the main army realizes that they are missing."

As Legolas watched the debate it was clear to him that Aragorn was relieved to have Haldir's support. The man was a good leader and wise beyond his years, but he was unsure of himself. He grew nervous when his decisions were argued against. Lesser men might take advantage of his naiveté in such matters. Aragorn was lucky that none of his present advisers were such. Legolas also admired the young man for standing up for his opinions even when opposed and despite his uncertainty. The Elf knew he would not have the strength to do so in the face of those more experienced than he. Aragorn knew his own mind, and he knew what was best for his people. It was no surprise that they accepted his leadership so easily. Legolas could see why his people loved him.

---

One week. That was how long they had been living in this poor excuse for a cave. It was also exactly how long Legolas had been married. And the Elf hardly spoke two words to his husband every day. Theirs was a poor excuse for a marriage, and yet Legolas could not help but like his husband.

What he did not like was their situation. They barely had enough food to feed all those present and every night they froze without a fire in the damp cavern. And to top it off Legolas was beginning to feel ill.

The prince did not know what was wrong with him. He had never been ill before, but he had no other way to describe the way his body was feeling. His back ached and his balance was off and he felt as though he was always hungry and yet his stomach was unsettled for most of the day. It felt as though anything he tried to eat would come right back up. After all, it already had once.

In the morning Legolas hurried out of their shelter and around a rock outcropping with the hope that no one would come across him there. Two days in a row now. As the Elf leaned against the rocks and coughed up everything he had eaten the night before he could not imagine what was wrong with him. Actually that was not true, Legolas in reality had a fairly good idea what was wrong with him, but he hoped desperately that it was not the case.

"Legolas?"

The young Elf jumped in alarm when he heard his name. He had not heard anyone come up and he quickly wiped at his mouth as he turned around. Haldir stood there, concern written on his face as he watched his kinsman. "Are you alright?" the commander asked.

"Yes," Legolas lied, forcing himself to stand up straight though his entire body was trembling.

"No, you are not," Haldir countered easily. "_Is this the first time?_"he switched into Elvish in case they were overheard by any of the men of their company.

Legolas turned his eyes away shamefully. "_No, yesterday as well_," he admitted.

Haldir's frown deepened. "_You should tell Aragorn."_

"_No!_" Legolas exclaimed, horrified.

"_He deserves to know, Legolas,_" Haldir scolded. "_If you are feeling ill there is only one thing it could mean. You are pregnant."_

He had thought that was the case, but the news held more weight when someone else said it. Pregnant. Legolas was not ready to be pregnant. Not when his husband hated him and they were on the run. This was the worst possible time to bring a child into the world. "_What do I do?_" the young Elf asked with a trembling voice.

"_You must tell him,_" Haldir replied. "_And then we shall all decide what to do_."

---

Haldir lead the way back into the cave, with Legolas trailing reluctantly behind. Legolas still felt ill, but by now most of that was caused by his nervousness and his fear of his husband's reaction. But Aragorn would find out eventually, so Legolas knew it was best to just tell him and get it over with.

"Lord Aragorn," Haldir said to get the young man's attention as they approached.

It was still fairly early in the morning. Many of the recovering soldiers were still asleep, and those that were awake were either standing guard or attempting to fix some breakfast for their motley crew. Aragorn was amidst the small cooking group, and he looked up curiously when the Elves approached. "Yes, what is it?" he asked.

Haldir glanced back at Legolas, but the younger Elf made no indication that he was willing to speak up first, so that left the commander to break the ice. "There is something which Legolas needs to tell you," he replied.

And Aragorn's eyes shifted to his husband for the first time, a curious expression on his face. What would the Elf have to tell him? They barely exchanged two words a day. Legolas withered back under the gaze, brought down by his own shyness and his unfamiliarity with this man. But he could not remain silent forever. He had to speak this now that Haldir had broached the topic. "I…" He stammered uncertainly, "I believe I am… with child," the young Elf finally managed.

The silence that fell over the cavern was palpable. "With child?" Aragorn repeated in disbelief. "You are pregnant?"

"I believe so, yes," Legolas replied meekly.

"Are you certain?" Aragorn insisted.

Legolas glanced over to Haldir uncertainly, but the other was unwilling to speak up for him in this moment. "It is still early, but it is the only logical explanation. I have been feeling ill these past few days."

Aragorn stared at the Elf. His slim body hardly seemed capable of carrying a child. Then the young king turned back to Haldir. "You think this as well?" he asked.

"Yes," Haldir answered with a curt nod. "Our kind cannot become ill from disease. It is the only explanation in this case."

Legolas waited for a reaction. He could practically see the work in Aragorn's mind as the man took in this information and processed it. Would he be upset? Would he be happy? Something in between? Would he feel anything at all?

"Then we should move on from here as soon as possible," Aragorn spoke finally and decisively, much to Legolas surprise. "If we are going to find somewhere better to shelter, or try and make our way to Edoras, we must do so before Legolas' condition becomes enough to hinder his ability to travel. And we must find somewhere safe before it becomes obvious, otherwise he will be the first target of any Orcs that come upon us."

Was that concern? Not upset, nor happy, but Aragorn was actually concerned for Legolas' safety. So he did care about his husband. Legolas' heart beat hard in his chest and he felt almost giddy from the happiness this small revelation brought him. The situation did not seem quite so bad when he thought his husband might come to love him eventually.

TBC


	6. Chapter 5

Title: Dark Days

Category: LotR FPS

Pairings: Aragorn/Legolas, Eomer/Haldir, Eomer/Faramir

Rating: R

Warnings: Slash/Yaoi, Mpreg, Violence, Death, AU

Summary: The War of the Ring goes strikingly differently when the One Ring is never recovered from the Misty Mountains by Bilbo of the Shire. Now with the enemy forces practically on their doorstep Gondor turns to an old, nearly forgotten allegiance.

Beta: Empath

_Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and places are property of Tolkien enterprises. All original characters, settings, and the plot of this story are property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work._

* * *

**Chapter Five – Love and Longing**

The company of refugees left at dawn the next morning, after packing up supplies for the road and making preparations to transport the more badly wounded. It had been decided that they would at least attempt to make their way toward Rohan, to reach Edoras if they could before Legolas' condition made it too difficult for him to travel. But staying off the beaten path and hiding out as they were, the journey over the mountains would take much longer than normal.

The ragtag company trudged along through the rocks and trees. This mountain pass had been well traveled in better days as the shortest way between Rohan and Gondor. The beaten path was probably still easy to follow, but the refugees were faced with a rougher path, slowed by fallen trees and rocks, turned around by sudden impassable obstacles. The traveling was hard and frustrating, but it gave the refugees a lot of time to think.

Boromir and Aragorn stayed near the front of the company, and Aragorn kept Legolas within his sight at all times. He frequently glanced back to check on Legolas' safety and made sure to help the Elf over particularly difficult areas. Each time he did so a small smile worked its way onto Legolas' face, but hardly a word passed between the two.

Eomer was watching this from behind where he walked with Haldir. What a very strange situation they had all found themselves in. "So he is actually pregnant?" he asked, glancing over to the Elf that walked beside him. It was difficult to believe that a male, even an Elf, was carrying a child.

Haldir looked over at Eomer, and then turned his gaze forward to Legolas. "Well, I believe so," he replied. "Though it is still early in the pregnancy, and I am by no means an expert in these things."

"Then what makes you believe he is?" Eomer asked curiously. Looking at Legolas he could not yet see anything different about him.

"He was ill," Haldir replied. "And Elves rarely contract illness. So as unlikely as it is that he managed to conceive a child so soon after marriage, it is less unlikely that he is afflicted with something else."

Eomer supposed that made sense, and he nodded his understanding. Although there was one thing that he had been wondering this whole time, which was what made it so hard to believe the Elf was carrying a child. "Legolas is male," he pointed out, "So how is it he is with child?"

"It is rather complicated," Haldir replied, smiling as he saw the man's skepticism. Of course, he did not expect a human to understand. "It is an ancient practice. I do not know the details myself. I believe that Legolas was the only one young enough to undergo the process that allows a male to conceive."

"A process?" Eomer asked with a frown.

"It is artificial, his ability to bear children. He was not born like this. As I said, I do not know the details, only that the subject cannot yet be fully matured in order for it to work," Haldir explained.

"I hear that Thranduil was quite insistent on securing the arranged marriage between Legolas and Aragorn," Eomer commented. "Is that true?"

"Yes," Haldir replied. "The Elves have been hit hard by this war, worse than Men. We are fewer in number and do not reproduce as quickly. Legolas is currently the youngest of our kind and the first child born for nearly a thousand years. I believe that securing this union was Thranduil's way of assuring the survival of our kind." As Haldir spoke he watched Aragorn wrap his arms around Legolas' waist to help him down an unstable slope. Legolas' eyes were bright and happy as the man paid attention to him, but Aragorn turned away as soon as they were on solid ground, and that light faded longingly.

Haldir saw this, and it was not the first time he had witnessed something similar. "Excuse me," he said with a curt nod to Eomer before leaving the man's company. Quick strides brought Haldir to the head of the company where he fell into step beside Boromir. "May I speak with you?" he asked.

The Steward looked over at him curiously, but nodded his head.

"Have you been watching the king and prince?" The Elf asked.

Boromir's expression turned even more curious, but he nodded, "Yes." Of course he had been keeping an eye on them; that was his job.

"I am worried about Legolas," Haldir admitted.

"As are we all," Boromir began to express, but Haldir was quick to cut him off.

"Nay, you are all worried about the child he carries," the Elven commander said, perhaps a little more sharply than intended. "Forgive me," he murmured, before picking up again. "I do not blame you, of course, but I am more concerned for my kinsman. I fear Legolas may be falling in love."

"With Aragorn, you mean?" It was not so much a question, as there was little doubt who the object of the prince's affections was. Boromir had seen the looks that passed between the couple as well. But if Haldir had noticed as well that meant it wasn't just his imagination. "Then I pity him."

"Why?" Haldir asked with a frown.

"It is a political marriage," Boromir replied. "They are not known for producing loving relationships. And Aragorn was never pleased with the arrangement."

"Neither was Legolas, I imagine," Haldir surmised. "I did not know him before this, but I know that he should be a warrior now, not a wife."

* * *

"We will camp here for the night," Aragorn announced, coming to a halt. The sun was sinking low in the sky and they had come across a relatively flat and sheltered area that would serve them well enough.

The refugees were grateful to stop for the day; their traveling had not been easy. Elven scouts were sent out to secure a safe perimeter while the others began working to set up camp. Not that there was much to set up. They had run from the ruined Minas Tirith with no supplies, so food and water had to be foraged as they went and there was nothing to construct shelter with. Already a few pieces of armor had been cannibalized and shaped into vessels to carry water or cook food.

This was not the sort of situation Aragorn wanted a child, especially his child, to be born into, so he was eager to get their company somewhere safe. "We made decent progress today," he said to Boromir as he watched the camp set up.

"We did, all things considered," the steward agreed. They could have done a lot worse, but they were lucky to have chosen the right paths that day.

"If this keeps up we may be out of the mountains in a matter of weeks," Aragorn added optimistically; perhaps a little too much so.

"I would not go quite that far," Boromir replied. It took a week to go over the mountain pass on the proper trail. Their progress had been good considering the rout they were taking, but they had traveled only a fraction of the distance they could have on the road. The way they were going he doubted it would take less than a month. "It will get harder."

Aragorn sighed. "That is true," he replied, and became thoughtful for a moment.

"Aragorn, may I be frank with you?" Boromir asked.

"I hope that you will always be such," the other man replied. He and Boromir had been friends since they were children and Aragorn would hate to lose that friendship because of his new status.

Boromir was glad to hear that, and he sighed faintly as he tried to think of the best way to word what he needed to say. "It is about Legolas," he began. "I feel you should make more of an effort toward him."

"What do you mean?" Aragorn turned toward his steward and frowned in confusion. Had he not watched out for the Elf's safety as they traveled that day?

"I mean that maybe you should take some time to get to know him," Boromir elaborated. "He is your husband, after all."

"Not by choice," Aragorn reminded him with a sigh. "I do not see how it matters. There are more important things to think about right now. And there will be plenty of time for getting to know each other after we are out of this mess."

While Boromir had to praise Aragorn for his determination to get his people to safety, he could not help but feel a little frustrated by his single mindedness. "You need not spend every moment of every day worrying about our company. We are all soldiers," he reminded the young king.

"I know," Aragorn assured him, "But we are also moving far too slowly and will be at a disadvantage if we are found by the enemy."

"A few moments of your time, Aragorn," Boromir beseeched. "As your husband, I feel he deserves that."

Aragorn sighed and raked a hand through his hair. "Boromir, I do not know why you are so concerned about this. How well I get on with my husband is hardly relevant to our situation."

"He has fallen in love with you, you daft fool," Boromir finally said in exasperation. "Can you not see that?"

Aragorn seemed genuinely surprised to hear this, and that was more than enough of an answer for his Steward. The young king was silent for a moment, and then shook his head. "This was a marriage of convenience; surely he does not expect me to return his feelings."

"No one does," Boromir replied, "But is it so much to ask that you acknowledge his existence? All he wants is for you to pay some attention to him."

"I pay plenty of attention to him," Aragorn argued.

"You pay plenty of attention to the child in his stomach," Boromir rebutted. "You do not care one wit about the person carrying it."

"That is not true!" snapped Aragorn defensively.

"It is," Boromir countered firmly. "You barely even looked at him before you found out he was with child. You turn away from any affection he tries to show you."

"I did not ask for this marriage. Do you expect me to love someone I hardly know?"

"He did not ask for it either," Boromir reminded. "And yet you treat him as though it is his fault. Have you even stopped for one moment to consider his feelings? He may not seem like it, but Legolas is much older than you or I. You have known about this arrangement your whole life, Aragorn, but Legolas had something else before you came along. I imagine he was training to be a soldier before the agreement was made. Now he sits about as useless as any noble maiden, though the Valar knows he tries to be anything but. Perhaps if you looked twice at him you might see that.

"You might not give him your love, but damn it he deserves your kindness," the steward concluded angrily.

Aragorn was a little taken aback. Boromir did not stay around to wait for the young king's response. He would not have gotten one anyway. Aragorn was befuddled. He was kind to his husband, was he not? Maybe they had not spent much time together, or even spoken very much, but he provided the Elf with everything he could in their situation. But Boromir's words had been a shock to him. Legolas was in love with him? Why? For how long? And suddenly he felt guilt creeping up and settling in his stomach. Was he being selfish? He was trying to be a good leader, to live up to the kingship that had so suddenly landed on his shoulders. Getting his people to safety should have been more important than fostering his relationship with his husband.

The young king's eyes scanned over the camp until they found his husband's figure. Legolas always tried to be whatever help he could and the soldiers often gave him simple tasks to perform, but there was little for him to do now that the scouts were securing the perimeter of the camp and forging for food. The Elven prince sat against a tree, his knees pulled up to his chest and his arms wrapped loosely around them, eyes staring into the campfire a few paces away.

There was nothing else to do now; nothing that needed Aragorn's immediate attention, at least. Slowly, the man crossed the ground and sat down beside his husband, not missing the slightly surprised but pleased expression that crossed Legolas' face as he did so. Aragorn sat quietly for a moment, and then opened his mouth to speak. "How are you doing?"

TBC

* * *

_Hopefully some questions are answered, more answers are forthcoming. I feel the need to remind that this is an AU story and therefore canon facts do not necessarily stand in this universe._


End file.
